Who Am I Now? (Book 2) [COMPLETED]

14 ¤ Dylan

He is shackled to the wall, and blindfolded. He keeps trying to conjure an illusion to help him get out of here, but it's pointless, as nothing really happens.

Dylan curses under his breath and situated himself against the cold wall. He doesn't know how long he's been in there, or why Darren Laufey decided to bring him here, but either way, he knows it cannot be good.

He's been left alone in the dark for a while now, and just as Dylan is about to accept that this is his fate now, to be stuck down here waiting for someone to find him, the sound of footsteps fills the silence.

He jerks his head in the general direction of the sound and tries to open his eyes,  but the cloth over them itches. Dylan focuses on how many pairs of feet are walking towards him. He counts at least three.

One of them walks with a cane.

"Look at you, pathetic freak," says one of the people, an older and crankier man.

A couple chuckles rise from the group, and Dylan rolls his eyes as best he can.

"What's his name again?"

"His name is of no consequence," says another man. "It is time we make sure they realize that we are the superior ones."

"Do you even hear yourselves?" Dylan demands.

"Ignore him," says the first man. "He can't do a thing to us right now, 'cept talk."

"You're talking out of fear," Dylan continues. "I'm really just like you, I'm no different."

"Ha! Now this one's funny," says the second man.

"Is there something you idiots wanted or not?" Dylan snaps as they start bickering amongst themselves.

"I actually have a proposal. You want to hear it?" asks the cranky old man.

"Sure, why not."

"Good. Now, think about this .... you work for me, and I worry about your ... debt. I will get you out of these chains and binds, and I will give you a free, warm meal and a cold shower. Anything you could desire."

Dylan laughs. "Sorry, but I am not interested in being someone's slave. And besides, you couldn't give me what I want and/or need."

"Oh, you think?" asks the man. "Well, maybe I can. You seem to love that freak, Anya Lee, was it? Well, what if I got her here with you?"

"No! I don't want Anya Lee any where near here." The men chuckle.  Dylan ignores them. He raises his chin. "Please, sir.  Don't  .... don't put her through this too. She can't come here, and be plagued with nightmares about it for the rest of her life."

"We aren't savages, freak boy," the third man says.

"Give it a rest, bud," the first man says. "Dylan. Was it? Anyway, I know you miss your girl. And I would love to help you,  but it just isn't feasible to let you go. So what will it be?"

"Don't hurt her or my friends. Please ... I will do what you want me to do, as long as you leave them alone."

He can hear the triumph in the man's voice.

"You have made a wise decision, young Dylan, in wanting to work with us."

The man snaps his fingers, and Dylan's shackles are removed and he takes off his blindfold. The room is huge and white everywhere, and the three men that stand before him are obviously the ones who were in here when the lights were off.

"You made a wise choice," says the first man, who wears a white suit, has gray hair, and blue eyes.

Did I?